"I don't see that that follows," said Larry, implacably. "He had strength enough to blackguard me very thoroughly, and it hasn't done him any harm. It seems to me, I'm the one to be sacrificed!"
"He spoke to Mother about us—about what you said to him. He began about it the instant he could speak. She——" Christian hesitated, "she could only quiet him by saying there was no engagement between us."
"Then she said what wasn't true!"
"Oh, it must be true!" said Christian, desperately; "it's got to be true——"
"Very well," said Larry, moving away, so that her hand fell from his arm. "If it's got to be true I suppose there's no more to be said. I may as well go. After all, I daresay you're well quit of me. Your father says I'm a damned Papist and——"
"I won't listen to you!" broke in Christian. "What's the use of hurting me and hurting yourself like this? Larry, I'll wait for you for ever—you know that—time will make no difference. Don't make it harder for me than it must be!"
"You don't seem to think much about me" said Larry, with a still rage that was a new thing with him. He left her side, and walked steadily to the door; then he turned, and in a few quick steps came back to her. He put his hands on her shoulders; he was not much taller than she, and his eyes looked straight into hers.
"Then it's true, is it? You're off it? You've given me the chuck?"
He spoke roughly, and gripped her harder than he knew, and in the tension of her nerves, the roughness of the words and action cut her like the stroke of a whip. Almost as if he had struck her, a splash of colour came in her face.
Larry was blind to the torture in her eyes, but he saw the quick red, and knew he had hurt her high spirit, and was glad.